


Masterpiece

by Galaxy_Phoenix



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Blindfolds, Body Paint, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Paint Sex, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Phoenix/pseuds/Galaxy_Phoenix
Summary: A standalone fic from the Blue Hair and Brush Strokes AU series (The Painter AU) in order to keep the rating on the series down to T
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Masterpiece

Watching Eleven sitting on his stool and in front of his canvas, deep in thought with a brush in hand and his paints scattered about was a common sight but it was always the little things that drew Erik into him. 

He wondered what those paintbrushes felt like on his skin…

Erik shook his head and went back to the dishes in the sink, hoping that it would help him clear his thoughts. He knew what paintbrushes felt like, it wasn’t like he hadn’t helped Eleven with cleaning them before! 

But still…

He looked back over at Eleven and his work, this time working on some still life piece with the flowers in the vase. His careful hands wielding his paintbrush like a knight holding a sword in battle, the colors streaking on the canvas by the stretch of his hand, and then he sat there in his silence of contemplation at the colors on the canvas screen, another landscaped being birthed from his own two hands. 

Those two hands, softer than lambswool but sturdier than bricks. Whether it was a gentle gesture to guide him to something or to comfort him with his hands stroking his back, Erik always did find himself melting rather easily in his grasp. It wasn’t hard to, he just felt so… safe and assuring. 

He looked back down at the brushes he was cleaning and noted the stiff, yet soft bristles attached to the wooden handles. He took one of the bigger ones and ran the bristles across his open palm, feeling the slight tingling sensation of the brush. 

He was a little startled by some noise behind him and looked to see Eleven gathering his things and putting his finished canvas away. Erik studied the empty easel that currently sat there still upright as he thought about all of the countless paintings Eleven has ever done on it. 

“Did the paint come out of the brushes okay?” He heard Eleven’s voice ask from the other room and turning back to the sink, he realized that he was missing a few brushes to clean, but the paint did slide off a little easier than normal.

“I got some new paints to try and supposedly, they’re supposed to clean a little easier than what I was using before,” Eleven explained. 

“What kind of paint is it?”

“They were called acrylic paints, and they’re relatively new, which is why I have so few of them. They’re very hard to get ahold of, and costly.”

“Do you prefer them better than oil paints?” Erik wasn’t entirely sure what the difference was, but he trusted Eleven’s knowledge. 

“Can’t say. I think I’m gonna have to use them some more before I make a judgment.”

Erik figured that was fair since they were still new. He then felt warm arms slowly wrapping around his waist and Eleven’s chin on his shoulder. He immediately felt soothed by the touch and had the feeling of almost wanting to melt again. 

“I wish I could hug you like this all the time. You’re very soft, you know that?”

Simple as he may be with words, those words still held onto him. It had only been about a month maybe (was it more or less? Erik couldn't remember) but even the little things would still play with his heart like it did when they first met. 

"Soft?"

"Yeah, makes me wanna kiss you all over!"

Eleven snuck a kiss on Erik's neck making him yelp happily as he squirmed in his embrace. Eleven then attacked his checks with even more kisses before slowing down and rubbing the side of his face against Erik's. Erik was always appreciative of the warmth he receives from him whether it be a full-body hug or just holding his hand. 

"Aw, I got your face all dirty with paint."

"What color is it?" Erik turned back around to face Eleven, his arms still wrapped around him.

"A dark blue and some yellow…"

They must've come from the paints he was working with as some of the acrylic paints were that color. 

"Wait, I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"An 'I-want-to-paint-your-face' kind of idea."

"You wanna make me your canvas?"

"Maybe…" Eleven thought of something before his face grew warm and formed a visible blush on his face. Erik caught the sudden change in demeanor quickly and became curious.

"What was that little thought just now?"

"Uhh, it's nothing." Eleven weakly deflected, but Erik wasn't buying it. 

"Well it sure was something if it made you blush that hard. Tell me."

Erik had backed him into a corner and caught him red-handed with that rather convincing look of his, his puppy eyes and his slightly puffy cheeks. Maybe he wouldn't object to actually being a canvas…?

"W-Well, I was thinking of having you as my canvas…"

"Go on."

"I wasn't thinking about painting just your face either… More like, your whole body…" Eleven's face couldn't be any redder but that only fueled Erik's intrigue. He thought about the paintbrushes he was cleaning earlier, about how it would feel on his skin. Perhaps he wanted it more than he originally thought but now he was starting to crave it.

"I want you to do it."

The little sentence alone took Eleven aback, like a sudden gut-punch to the stomach. Erik's tone was one of finality, demanding Eleven to use him as one of his paintings, to exert control and carefulness over his body like he was with his brushes. That look in his eyes carried a certain hunger that can only be found between passionate lovers, a powerful force to be reckoned with, and strong. He _wanted_ him.

Oh Goddess above, he was actually serious.

What should he do? What was the best way to respond?

"Eleven, look at me."

Erik's voice snatched him from his thoughts and brought him back to the reality of Erik still looking at him, his face a little softer this time, and having his hands on his cheeks. 

"Just this once? Please?"

Eleven was already having a hard time saying no to him and this time was no different. No matter how outrageous the request, if it was within some form of reason, Eleven would do his best to fulfill it. Plus he had some paints he could spare. 

“You’re completely fine with being propped up on an easel and being painted all over your naked body?” Erik didn’t flinch at the question but instead became even more intrigued by the idea. It was definitely something different and after remembering the feeling of the soft bristles of the brushes on his hands as he was cleaning them, he wanted to feel it all over his body. 

“You don’t happen to have any plans for tonight, do you?”

“Me? As if I have anywhere to be. Don’t worry, I’m all yours this evening.”

Speaking of the evening, it was already becoming dusk. If they were actually going to do this, then they would need to be prepared. Erik made a comment about “freshening up” before he slowly slipped from Eleven’s grasp and gave him a lingering stare as he turned the corner. Eleve was alone now in the room, still in his paint-stained smock and bandana. Perhaps he could freshen up as well but how? 

Well first, the paint on his skin needed to be cleaned off and he needed some new clothes. He immediately remembered a special outfit that Gemma made for him just before he left Cobblestone that consisted of a poet’s ruffled blouse and dark high-waisted pants. Gemma told him that the clothes were for a special occasion, like presenting an art piece to the upper classes. 

Well, tonight can count for a special occasion, so he had an excuse to wear it. 

He went over to his bed and looked under to find a wooden container with a metal latch. This is where he stored the clothes for the time being as a way to keep them separated from the rest of his normal work clothes. He carefully pulled out the blouse and pants and gently laid them both on his bed. It was hard to mistake Gemma’s excellent craftsmanship, with the delicate threading and attention to detail with an emphasis on functionality. 

Gemma always had a talent for that sort of thing.

Eleven quickly went to wash what paint was still left on his skin and found that it was easy to wash off. Seeing that he was satisfied, he removed his work clothes and slid into the fancy clothes that were on his bed, mindful not to pop any seams or stretch something. He found the blouse comfortable and light, a little flowy in the arms. The pants were no issue either as they slid on without a hitch. He adjusted his collar and his sleeve cuffs but adjusted instantly to the new fabric. He had a moment to check in the mirror and he was surprised to see how much of a different person he looked with just an outfit change.

He wondered what Erik would’ve thought about it.

“Well, excuse me sir, I don’t know where you came from but you have no right being that handsome as you are. It’s almost a crime.”

Eleven snapped his head around to be greeted by Erik in the doorway, admiring him up and down. Erik didn’t have much on other than his boxers and one of Eleven’s longer shirts, the shirt-tail brushing up against his thighs. 

Erik certainly was a sight to behold. 

“Sorry, I had to ‘borrow’ one of your shirts. They feel so warm and they smell like you, but… I like the real thing a little more.” Erik admitted with the slightest hint of a blush coming on his cheeks. He looked so precious at that moment, like someone he wanted to hold and cherish, like a darling baby.

Of course, he _is_ his baby. 

“So… Shall we start?” 

Eleven couldn’t verbally respond fast enough as he was already making his way over to Erik, taking his hand and guiding him to a stool in front of an oversized easel in his studio. He gulped to himself quietly, hoping Erik wouldn’t notice how nervous he was as he gently sat him down on the stool and knelt down in front of him, his face between his thighs. He looked back up at Erik, who looked back down at him shyly. Eleven drifted his attention back to his thighs and started to press soft kisses into them while rubbing his hands up and down his legs. Eleven looked up at him again with a kind smile and Erik nodded as if he wanted Eleven to continue. So Eleven lifted his attention to Erik’s stomach just under his shirt and started to slowly unbutton them one by one. After the third button, Eleven noticed Erik’s hands in his hair and looked up to see Erik’s shy face again, his blush deepening. 

“Something the matter, sweet?”

Erik shook his head, “You just keep doing what you’re doing. I like admiring you as you work.”

Eleven noted the blush on Erik's cheeks, warm and pink. He was so shy, and it was a good look on him, it made him look cuter.

He decided to tease him a little by gently placing a small kiss on his stomach, feeling him jolt a little.

"H-Hey now, that tickles."

“Awww, I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“Oh shush, don’t go abusing that secret either.”

It was already too late as Eleven decided to press kisses into Erik’s stomach and Erik was having difficulty trying to keep the giggles down. He didn't make an attempt to stop him, not wanting the kisses to stop. 

The kisses went from playful to slow and appreciative as Eleven went back to studying his skin, every single inch of his body being observed and admired for the project to come.

"Am I that interesting to you?" Erik asked jokingly, breaking the silence.

"Yes, you are actually." Eleven replied seriously. The response mildly surprised Erik but his heart grew soft when Eleven looked up at him with those doe eyes of his. 

That softness could bury him and he would be perfectly okay with that.

"I have an idea, if you wish to…"

"What kind of idea?"

"Well… what are your thoughts on being blindfolded?"

An odd question sure, but it wasn't out of Erik's comfort zone. 

"I can do that." Erik said, smiling.

"Okay, so I'm gonna cover your eyes, just hold still and tell me if it gets too much."

It wasn't long before his vision was blackened out by the thick cloth.

Blind.

"Are you good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Alright, let's begin." Eleven lowered his voice in a sexy way, enough to send shivers down Erik's spine. 

He was now blind with the cloth bandana over his eyes, leaving his other senses to be heightened in a way. 

Especially touch, when he felt a thick, wet paintbrush going from just under his left ear to his right armpit, making him shiver with the thick paint. It was so cold and smooth on his bare skin that it even made him squirm a little. Another long stroke in a similar fashion overlapped the previous one and enticed a quiet moan out of him. 

“Does it feel good, sweet?”

Erik nodded his head a little, seemingly excited for what was going to come next. He couldn’t stop trembling, whether it was from the cold or the paint he couldn’t tell.

He didn’t care.

All it mattered to him was how good it felt.

Eleven switched brushes and picked a thinner one with the intention of doing his face. Erik gasped lightly as he felt the little dips and feather-light touches of the thin paintbrush on his cheek. The brush curved and left some lovely patterns Erik could only imagine Eleven could produce. He sensed El’s free hand on his exposed cheek and the other with the thin brush in his hand it went up to his brow and ran down his nose, the tiny line of paint almost looking like a crack on his body.

More like a crack in Erik’s dignity, judging from the way Erik bounced his knee in anxious anticipation. It wouldn’t be long before every last bit of his sense was gone. 

“Goodness, you really are a needy one, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yes… El, pleaseee…”

“Please what?” Eleven teased, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Erik stumbled on his words, partially from trying to find the right ones to plead with, and the other because of a thicker paintbrush painstakingly painting a short, fat line on his stomach. It would’ve tickled him if it didn’t arouse him so much.

He was already getting hard, he could sense it.

Then the thick paintbrush stopped and was removed, which garnered a whine from Erik.

“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say earlier about saying what you want?”

Erik mustered everything in him to utter coherent words that he hoped to Yggdrasil would make even a lick of sense.

“I-I want… I want you to… ah… touch me all over… control me… please…”

"Ah, so that's what you want… I think I can do that with you being good so far." Eleven cooed as he continued to paint a single large stroke, this time on Erik's inner left thigh, dangerously close to his dick. Erik curled his toes and tensed up, letting out a quiet sob as his nerves got sensitive. 

He was so close, dammit, he was so close. 

He sensed Eleven's hand on his other thigh and tried to still himself but it was rather hard to do when he was still that sensitive. 

"You struggle so much to keep it under control, it's honestly admirable at how much you try to stay a good boy. Maybe I can help with this?" Eleven offered, holding up a wet paint brush doused in water and letting just the tips of the bristles ghost on the underside of his hard dick. Erik didn't hesitate to moan a little more needily, his nerves jolting. His toes curled inward as tight as he could.

“Eleven… please paint me more, I’m begging you…”

It was even enough to even make him leak a little precum and his eyes to get a little watery.

“You’re so tense, love. I didn’t realize you were so taken by my brushes.”

Erik felt two paint brushes this time going up his legs to his inner thighs again, just short of his dick. His dignity already coming apart at the seams, he whined helplessly as he felt the sensitivity in his stomach ball up and grow. He was already about to cum from the touching, but it felt too soon to him. 

“Eleven pleaseeeee...”

“Please what?”

“I-I’m so close, I think I’m gonna cum…”

“Is that so?”

Eleven’s hands slid all over his mostly-painted body, either stroking what bare, untouched skin he has left ever so smoothly or smearing the thick paint to another part of his body, leaving paint stains. His hands brushed past his nipples and Erik thought he was going to explode as more sensitive nerves shot through his body. 

His moans were becoming more desperate it seemed but Erik didn’t care anymore, not when Eleven was dominating him in the gentlest way possible, being ever so careful with the human canvas in front of him. Erik couldn’t stop twitching his legs or even sit still, no matter how hard he tried to control it. 

“E-El, I can’t, I can’t… Ah, I-I’m gonna cum-”

“So soon? You really do get hot and bothered rather easily. That’s alright, I think I’ve got my masterpiece just right. Just need to get one last spot first.

Erik felt his bare hand pump his dick a few more times and it was all over for Erik, whose cracking dignity shattered as he came, the white thick substance gushing out. His sexual high was the only feeling in his body right now and it was so heavy that he couldn’t think of all else. His dragged-out moan was the cherry on top, so much neediness was found in his shaky voice that Eleven was surprised the sound even came from him. He was still shaking all over after his climax.

After a few moments, Erik was coming back to his senses. His hazy vision was clearing up and focused on Eleven who had just taken the blindfold off. Erik was still a little dazed so all he could do was stare at the handsome painter in front of him. 

“You okay, sweet?” Eleven asked, concerned. Erik nodded and felt Eleven’s hand on his bare cheek, his thumb stroking just under his eye.

“How was that?”

“It felt so good, I… I’m really happy that you let me be your canvas.”

“That’s good to hear. You ought to see yourself right now, you look stunning.”

Stunning? The random paint blotches and smears made him stunning? Erik was curious as to what he meant by that. He didn’t have to wonder long however, as Eleven brought a larger mirror from the other room and placed it right in Erik’s view. Erik didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what kind of witchcraft Eleven procured to make him like this.

To make him beautiful.

The various tones of greens, blues and white melded magnificently long with the peach hue of his normal skin tone and his blue hair. The thinner lines were done with a practiced precision and were carefully applied. He really did feel like a finished canvas. 

“What do you think?”

Erik’s first reaction was to start welling up in tears and he even cried a little. 

"It's… beautiful."

"You're beautiful, a beautiful masterpiece." Eleven placed a gentle kiss on his temple. Erik looked up at him as he held his hand ever so gently and kissed the back of it.

Now to get cleaned up, but they didn't mind.

Erik certainly didn't.


End file.
